


Our Tiny Grace

by Audlie45



Series: Laing's Continued Adventures [1]
Category: British Actor RPF, High-Rise (2015), Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Book Spoilers, F/M, Mentions of Mental Illness, Mentions of past suicide, Serious, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 13:27:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6286471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Audlie45/pseuds/Audlie45
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beth is worried about her boss, Dr. Robert Laing and finds him in a terrible state in his office. Can she save him from himself?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Tiny Grace

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, this is new and came from a Tumblr prompt of "Imagine having a one night stand with Laing" and it turned into a whole story type thingy. This is set sort of out of time of the story. Sort of at the endish. It's spoilery to the story but it also goes off from it because at this point in the story he'd already decided to never leave the high rise again, so eh. I hope you enjoy! Feedback is always welcome!

Paperwork and rescheduling appointments seemed to have become Beth’s sole purpose, not only as a receptionist, but in life. She’d had little time for much else since she’d become the only attending employee in the office.

Dr. Robert Laing seemed to have made a habit of missing work these past two weeks and had been sparse the whole month, making all these new reschedules uncertain. It was becoming worrisome, considering payday was today and his phone seemed to no longer be in service.

It being Friday, the paperwork was finished and nearly all appointments had been set to be about two weeks out, for the ones who’d decided to stick around, she had made the decision that if he didn’t come in today, she was going to leave. Her livelihood and sanity just weren’t worth it.

On her way to the door, she noticed Laing’s car parked in his usual spot, quite a bit off center but still there. Relief and excitement flooded through her as she got closer. The windshield and roof looked slightly banged up, which made her worry. What if he’d been in an accident and she was here, coming into work, frustrated and angry with him, while he very well could have been in the hospital recovering.

She stepped into the building and noticed wet splotches on the floor making their way to Laing’s office. She knocked on the door, and could hear him rustling around, attempting to open locked filing cabinets. After a brief pause, the door swung open and banged on the opposite wall loudly, causing her to jump.

The man standing in front of her looked nothing like the doctor she worked for. Of course, he had the same face and physique, maybe a little thinner than she’d remembered, but his body language and the cold hard look in his eyes was terrifying.

The first thing she noticed was the smell, he seemed to have not bathed in a few days and just sloshed himself with someone else's cologne. His normally, crisp, clean pressed, white button down was completely wrinkled and had small smatterings of what she could only assume was blood. His always perfectly styled hair wasn’t quite as bad as the rest of him but it wasn’t up to par with what he normally presented to the world. She couldn’t help but stare at his chest where the imprint of a woman’s makeup was stained into it and notice how his breathing was heavy and shuddering slightly.

“Beth.” It almost sounded like a question but the way his eyebrows grew closer and his head cocked to the side slightly. It seemed as though he were assuring himself that that was, in fact, her name.

Swallowing and finally snapping out of her observations, she perked up and held her head a little higher.

“Doctor, you haven’t been in lately. I’ve had to reschedule all of your appointments and… Well, quite a few of your clients are adamant about going to another doctor. They think you’ve abandoned the practice.” She saw that the idea of losing patients didn’t seem to be affecting him, in fact, nothing seemed to be phasing him at all. Even the way he looked at her while she spoke was far off and seemed to see straight through her.

She shifted from one foot to the other, lowering her head slightly to catch his eye. When he finally seemed to recognize her again, he lifted his chin, as if to collect himself, and cleared his throat.

“That’s… Perfectly fine, Beth, cut all my appointments and make sure all my paperwork is organized. I’ll be back next week to close up the office.” And with that he turned around to head to his desk, leaving his door wide open.

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the large blood stains that covered the back of his shirt and the dark, almost imperceptible, ones on his charcoal slacks. His black leather wingtips squelched with every step he took, causing her more confusion.

“Dr. Laing… A-Are you alright? Did… Did you need me to call an ambulance or…” She waited for him to acknowledge her but he seemed distracted as if in a daze. Like he wasn’t even in his own office, as if everything was completely foreign.

She watched as he leaned forward on his desk and took a deep breath. The muscles in his broad shoulders expanding and contracting with the motion. She couldn’t help but still admire his physique. He always managed to keep himself in tip top shape, something she’d noticed when he’d help her carrying equipment and boxes into the office or when he was with a patient. He always wore those perfectly form fitting button downs with rolled up sleeves and his tight-around-the-bum slacks.

“Beth,” he said after a long pause, “what do you think drives a person to lose their sanity?”

“I-I don’t… Um…” She looked down at her feet. This question was a little odd but didn’t seem out of place with the current state of him. She’d dealt with mental illness before, he knew, not in herself but her brother, whom she’d lost. “I think, sometimes it can’t be helped and, no matter the circumstance, it’ll happen but there’s times when, in a situation that’s inevitable, someone could slip. Repetitive behavior or obsession can be attributors or a traumatic experience… Do you want me to phone someone for you?” He hadn’t turned around the entire time but his body relaxed some while she spoke.

“Will you help me? I think...,” he turned around, running his hand through his hair, to look her in the eyes, “I think I’ve lost my mind.”

The look he gave her broke her heart. He looked so young and scared with his hair askew and grime on his cheek. She stepped closer, unsure of what to do but his eyes continued to beckon her and she had no choice but to obey.

He leaned down slowly, breathing in her just washed skin and hair and felt his own self hatred at what he’d become bubbling up inside until her lips met his just barely. The tender, light moment of the two joined together lasted mere seconds before tears began pouring down his face, startling her.

She pulled away saw as the clear streaks made paths through the dirt and, most likely blood, that caked his face.

“Come, let me take you to my apartment for a bath.”

He agreed and walked close behind her to her car, leaving the office closed. Once inside, he stared off into the distance, unseeing, until they came to pass the new high rise building that had just began settling in it’s tenants. He perked up, gazing intently at the building as if waiting to see something remarkable or terrible happen while he watched. It gave her chills.

She could see something battling in his mind but she couldn’t tell exactly what it was. One minute he would look wounded and at the brink of tears and the next as if he were cold, intense and almost seductive. The latter, always returned a heated gaze when he thought she wasn’t looking.

She couldn’t understand what might have happened to Dr. Laing. He’d just moved into his new place about a month and a half ago and seemed fairly content with it for a short while until he started coming in smelling oddly or with a blank stare, then his days became more infrequent and it worried her, to say the least, but it really wasn’t her business.

When they arrived at her apartment he looked up at the five story building she rented at as if it were a cottage, nowhere near his forty story home. She took him inside and lead him to the bath.

Her father was about the same build as Laing but just a tad stockier, he’d left behind a button up and trousers the last time he’d visited so she set that out for him on her bed for when he was finished.

Beth was preparing a light and easy breakfast when he arrived in the living room. He looked as confident and composed as she always remembered with only a slight puffiness around the eyes she decided to ignore.

“Are you hungry? I’ve got-” she was cut off by arms wrapping around her and pressing her body to the refrigerator. Her cheek pressed against the freezer door as Robert nuzzled her shoulder and up to her neck.

He breathed in her hair and the smell of bacon. Fresh food being something he hadn’t encountered in weeks.

She was confused by his behaviour. He seemed to be relaxing and molding himself to her as if it were the natural and proper way to show his appreciation. Confused, she just stayed still until his body pulled back from her and his arms let her go.

“Dr. Laing!” Her words came out harsher than she’d expected and turned around to see him leaning back against her kitchen island with his head in his hands. “Robert. Doctor, please talk to me. What’s happened to you?” Her back was pressed to her refrigerator door willingly as if she could attempt to increase the distance between them by being as close to it as she could.

“The pool. Alice… Eleanor… Wilder and his insane ideas.” He continued mumbling, varying in volume and coherency. His long fingers working their way into his freshly shampooed curls that were beginning to frizz due to his lack of conditioner or styling gel.

She began to move to her left to grab the plate of their accumulated breakfast but he looked up quickly and took a quick step forward. Flinching, she pulled back, uncertain of what he might do. He stopped and his eyes cleared over again and confusion swept over his face.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve… My life has changed. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Can you get me out? I need to leave the high rise immediately.” He stared at her intensely hoping she would show some sign of approval and when she nodded his face completely changed. He was a boy again with utter joy etched into his features.

“Doctor, if I’m to help you I need to know what happened. There was blood on your clothes for chrissake. You’ve been missing from work for over two weeks. Have you... involved yourself in trouble?” She felt herself grow assertive as she spoke. His boyish expression took on that vulnerability again and he looked away. There was definitely something wrong he was afraid to talk about.

He mumbled something, his face unblinkingly staring off to the hallway leading to her bathroom.

“Wha-what did you say? Doct-”

“Robert! Call me Robert.” She flinched back slightly at his outburst.

“R-Robert. What did you say?”

“Tomorrow.” He looked down, contemplating something and then looked back up into her eyes with a cold stare hiding behind a mocking friendliness. “We can talk about it tomorrow.”

His actions were scaring her but she couldn’t just leave him with the state he was in. He needed help and she was the only one who could.

She pulled her facial features to a confident care-not expression, despite her worry, and nodded. “Right. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Here,” she reached back, taking the plate with their breakfast, and held it out to him, “set the food on the table and I’ll get our plates and silverware. Coffee or tea?”

“Tea, please.”

* * *

The day went slowly but pleasantly. After breakfast the two sat down on her outside balcony for chess, which only last a few moves before she decided to bring it inside after she caught Robert taking four too many glances to the higher floors as if expecting falling debris. Once moved inside, the game lasted until lunch, where they had sandwiches in which he devoured quickly. The afternoon was spent listening to records and dancing together, rather closely on a few occasions.

To her surprise, after their talk that morning, he never again showed those cold or vulnerable expressions, he was the Dr. Robert Laing she knew from work; charming, funny and an amazing conversationalist.

“Do you have any spare linens?” He asked as he began loosening the buttons at his neck and downward. He stood in her living room, next to her mustard yellow sofa looking gentlemanly and warm. If there was anything bothering him from before, he only showed the perfect picture of a man in a mask.

Flushing slightly, she turned to her hall closet and opened the door. “Yes of course. Um,” she took a deep breath and decided against what she was about to say. Of course asking a man, let alone boss, to your bed was completely improper but he showed more than enough interest throughout the day and their dance sessions earlier grew more intimate as they continued until they decided on dinner. She wanted badly to comfort him in bed but she also needed to save her dignity. “Do you need one or two blankets?”

“Just one is fine.” When she looked up, he was staring at her. His shirt half open, arms at his side, as if he were waiting for her to say something else. Perhaps he saw her inner debate and disagreed with her decision.

She nodded and pulled everything he needed for bed. Handing him the folded bedding, she smiled and said goodnight. He’d set the bedding down and reached out to hug her gently, burying his nose in her hair, nuzzling her neck as his arms closed loosely around her waist and shoulders. She closed her eyes as oxytocin released through her body and she wrapped her arms around his ribcage. He whispered a thank you and squeezed once before letting her go.

“It’s really not a problem. Aside from being my boss you’re also my friend.” She smiled at him and turned to prepare herself for bed, missing a cold stare hitting her back.

* * *

Beth dreamed of pawns, rooks and knights dancing on a balcony and kings eating sandwiches, staring angrily past them at the high rise beyond a blood orange landscape.

A creaking noise along with her whole body swaying back, as her bed sunk down to the weight of another body, woke her from her odd dreams. She rubbed her eyes and sat up slightly only to be pulled back down gently by strong slender arms. Her body felt heavy and sleep tugged at the back of her eyelids, comforted by the fact that she knew who was behind her.

She understood. She really did. Her brother had problems being alone when he was going through episodes, no matter how calm and composed he seemed on the outside.

A clean shaven chin rubbed against her bare shoulder, rolling over the thin fabric of her spaghetti strap tank as he nuzzled closer to her neck and jawline. One arm rested at her waist, his palm spread on the sheets, and the other was up, elbow at the highest point on the bed, brushing her short brown hair from her face. He began laying light kisses just under her ear and she felt herself heat up. Faster than she’d thought possible, she became wide awake. Her breathing grew short as she felt heat spread through her face down to her chest.

Should she do this? Was this what she wanted? Was this what he needed? Would he hate her for this or would she hate him? She couldn’t imagine what she would feel after, the next morning from sleeping with her traumatized boss. Hesitantly, she pulled her head away and shifted around to look at him.

Even through the dark of her room, with only the slightest bit of moonlight showing through her curtains, she could make out the expression on his face. Half lidded eyes, what she could assume were, flushed cheeks, mouth parted and panting lightly. She knew this was wrong. Seeing his face and knowing that it was just comfort and a warm body he was looking for in his time of need, she knew she shouldn’t give in. She knew, now, that doing this might ruin their professional relationship and possibly their friendship but she couldn’t resist his pleading eyes. That need and vulnerability she saw crumbled her resolve.

Pulling him down to meet her lips, she felt tears falling at the loss of what could have been and gave in to the comfort of now.

He touched her everywhere. Her face, breasts, stomach and thighs. Every inch of her exposed skin, after he’d gingerly removed her clothing, felt his warm, slender fingers caress her in the dark.

It took nearly half an hour for him to remove his clothing and finally push into her. She was overly wet from his attentions and he slid in with little resistance. There were tears in his eyes as he moved within her, slowly, building in intensity but never speed. He continued to caress her as if she were the only woman he’d ever felt. The small whimpers and moans that escaped his mouth were so uncharacteristic of the man she knew she couldn’t help but reach up and pull him down to hug him close as he continued to thrust into her.

She felt guilt and pleasure as his thrusts became erratic and his voice took on a hurried and higher pitched tone. Hiding herself in his shoulder, she kept her limbs wrapped around him as he came, spilling inside her.

He collapsed on top of her but she barely felt the weight. When he pulled up on his arms, shaking slightly from his orgasm, he stared at her face as if he could see her every feature in the dark room. She could feel his body tense up from where her legs remained wrapped and he, surprisingly hard again, began thrusting once more.

She was taken off guard and tried her best to keep up with him as he pistoned into her. His demeanor completely changed, her mind had no choice but to focus on the feel of him inside her. He pulled her legs free and pushed them up, folding her in on herself with her knees on his shoulders. The angle hitting a spot he hadn’t neared during his first orgasms build up. She became more vocal and his whimpering moans became deep grunts as he seemed more intent on her pleasure.

He finished her off by pulling back, leaving her legs up near her face, thrusting into her at such an angle and rubbing at her sensitive bundle of nerves. Before finishing his second orgasm, he curled up around her, feeling her entire body spasm beneath him. His body, small, around hers as he came inside of her once more.

She fell asleep to the man she knew as her charming yet self contained boss, curled around her body like a small child, naked and trembling. A quiet thank you, whispered onto her breast as he nuzzled into it.

* * *

When Beth woke the next morning, she’d laid in bed, eyes closed, dreading the conversation ahead of her. Although, what she found when she searched her apartment was that Laing had gone.

Her bedding had been folded and put back where it belonged and her keys were on her table instead of the rack in her hallway. Upon closer inspection, she found two keys missing. The building key and Laing’s spare key to the filing cabinets in his office. Confused, she dressed quickly and made her way to the office.

He must have walked or taken a taxi. The door to the building had been left completely open as well as the one to his office. She walked in, noticing how everything seemed the same except for two filing cabinets, open and nearly fallen to the floor. Inside she saw empty boxes that had once contained vials of morphine.

No. This couldn’t be. Dr. Laing? Addicted to morphine? That couldn’t possibly be it but why would he need the drugs? What possible conclusions could she go to that didn’t involve him doing them himself? Maybe someone was hurt in the high rise? But why would he be acting so strangely? There was definitely something wrong in this situation and Beth needed to find out.

Tomorrow she would be setting out for the high rise.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah. Probably won't be a sequel but what did you think? Sorry for the mild spoilers but I mostly left his character and actions to him in the book because I haven't seen the movie yet. I really love this book and I hope you enjoyed the story!


End file.
